


Death Waits for NO ONE

by Cefricus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, Death, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Powerful Harry, Reincarnation, Whipped
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 17:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14383464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cefricus/pseuds/Cefricus
Summary: Floating in a blank void wasn't even near what Percival Dumbledore had imagined afterlife to be. First of all, wasn't he supposed to see his dead relatives? Or even some type of hell/paradise? Perhaps this is the punishment God had for him for destroying the trio de bastards. Sadly, reincarnated as the Boy-who-lived wasn't exactly what he had expected





	Death Waits for NO ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Joanne Rowling owes Harry Potter and its characters, but not this story idea. Creative writing and everything - taken from my FFnet account, which is under the same name.

**The Prelude to Everything: A fucking cliché death and an equally fucking entity hell-bent on ruining a good day.**

**-o-**

-September 29th 1891-

The last thing Percival Dumbledore felt was the cold atmosphere of Azkaban. He would be abashed if he felt an ounce of terror from the so-called Maximum Security Wizarding Prison. He wasn't one of the strongest wizards alive, if not the most strongest wizard alive for a reason.

From childhood Percival was unique. He saw things others missed, his keen intellect was one of his prized traits. The other being his anger. The same anger that caused him to use the _Cruciatus Curse_ on the three pathetic muggles who dared abuse, and destroy his daughter. The love he felt for his family was stronger than anything else. So when he found out about the trio who harmed his daughter, he came after them. He destroyed them. He played with their minds, he used every torture curse he knew of, every ability in his arsenal to bring out cold justice. Unfortunately, his intellect was not able to save him. His mind was far too clouded with anger to notice that he went too far. So going to Azkaban was not surprising. He would have been sentenced either way, whether or not he told the idiotic ministry the reasons he broke their beloved Statute of Secrecy for dishing out punishment to the perpetrators. It was either him going to Azkaban without telling them the reason of why he had done the vile act, or tell them, have his daughter, Ariana, taken to a mental Asylum in St. Mungos, and him going to Azkaban. Logically, his intellect informed him that the first choice was the correct one.

Which leads to the next part. The entirety of the Magical World, including his own sons, Albus and Aberforth, hated him for what he did to the Muggles. Some, even claiming that he was a Muggle and a Muggle-born hater, but they could be far from the truth. He only hated the three bastards who destroyed his daughter, not the entire species. And for crying out loud, why would he hate muggle-borns? His beautiful wife, Kendra was a Muggle-born! Why the bloody hell would he have copulated with her, if he hated her kind? The stupidity of people knows no bounds.

And finally, this leads to the last part. His death. If it was up to him, he would have chosen to be brutally murdered (for example; have his intestines ripped out, his throat slit open, and a painful death by blood loss), rather than being killed by a simple fucking _Avada Kedavra_. Honestly, dying to a stupid killing curse is the worst type of death possible. There is absolutely no honour in dying like that. None whatsoever. For fucks sake, he was sleeping too. Which type of moron would come to a man sleeping in a prison, and have the need to even kill him? What the fuck would it accomplish? He was already sentenced to life in prison, even if he had the power to destroy the entire prison tower whilst escaping, he had no real intention too. Why upon Merlin's sagging balls would he want to draw attention to himself, and even worse, his family? And worst of all, the person who had killed him, did not even have the decency to slice his throat or anything. And this goes back to the fucking cliché way of dying by a killing curse. He hoped that whoever invented that spell died a horrible death. Yes, fuck the person's soul to eternity.

**~LIMBO~**

Floating in a blank void wasn't even near what Percival had imagined about the afterlife. First of all, wasn't he supposed to see his dead relatives? Or even some type of hell or paradise? Perhaps this would be the punishment God had for the mind raping of the three bastards. Then again, was the entire situation not justified? They harmed his precious daughter, Ariana, so it was only fair he returned the favour. And then the person who had killed him, who was it? Why did they target him, and what was the purpose?

'It could have been worse,' he silently mused to himself, 'for instance, it could have happened while I was awake.' A sudden darkness over took his body, the entire world around him turning pitch black.

" **It could have.** " For everything galleon in the world, he was not expecting this. The voice was deep and powerful. It clawed his ears, the voice itself inspiring fear within every fiber of his body.

He gained mustered up some of his Gryffindor courage, and let out a mind-squeal, 'Who are you? What are you?'

The being gave out a cold laugh, it did not seem forced, but seemed like a real laugh, as if a joke was said. " **I am the embodiment of Death, hence, _I am Death._** "

Death? Is that some kind of joke? Well, as Percival thought about his current predicament, he really saw no point in doubting the words of the entity. 'Well then death, I presume you already know who I am, so I may as well ask, what do you want?'

" **What I want is hardly considered. And yes, I do know you quite well, Percival Augustus Brian Dumbledore. I know everything there is to know about you.** " The voice replied. Its ever-so-ominous presence sending chills through his body.

'I don't doubt you. Which comes to my previous question, what do you want?'

" **What I want is neither here, nor there. First of all, you were killed by one of the ten prison guards. It was his nephew you tortured to insanity, so for revenge, he took your life. And like before, I do not want anything from you, no, I need you to do something for me.** " Death stated.

Percival thought to himself, what would Death need that it would be so prudent that it would need to bother him about? What do I need to do, and why not some other dead person'

" **You're the only one capable of this task.** " It stated frankly.

'Me? Can you be more specific?'

" **From all the dead souls, not only are you by far the most powerful, but you're also the most capable of dealing with the threat.** " Death paused, as if trying to create suspense, and Percival imagined staring at death, waiting for it to continue. " **I believe you already know what Hocruxes are, well, they itself are an abomination to everything living and dead, as such they should not even exist. Unfortunately, I would have loved to deal with this myself, but I cannot interfere with every day Mortal Affairs. Which is why I need you, you shall go as my Avatar, the Avatar of Death. In the mortal world, your kind would be referred to as 'Master of Death'. As such, I need you to hunt down these Hocruxes, and kill the man who created them. I do not appreciate it when someone cheats me. It turns the balance of the Universe askew.** "

'That seems simple enough, who do you need me to kill?' Percival asked, overjoyed at the prospect of dealing with Hocruxes, something he had studied quite intensively after leaving Hogwarts.

" **A man named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Unfortunately, it will not be as simple as you may believe. This man is the reincarnation of a previous Avatar of mine, thankfully he does not have the memories, but he has all the power and abilities he acquired in that life.** "

Of course, nothing could ever be fucking easy. 'You're a fucking retard.' Apparently death does not appreciate being called a fucking retard, not only because of his tone, but also because of what he said next.

" **Have it your way, you little shit. I was about to let you go back with your body, but now? No. You're going to do this the hard way you little shit. Enjoy being reincarnated as a Human Baby.** " Deaths voice clawed against Percival's soul. Major warnings going through his very being.

One would think Percival would stop and apologize. One would also think, that a man who highly prizes his intellect would stop, and think about what he says before speaking. Unfortunately for Percival, his anger loves talking for him. 'What the fuck? Are you bloody fucking serious with me, you fucking pile of crap? You want me to do your job, but you fucking want to hinder my progress?'

" **I've had enough of your crap you little shit, you're going to be limited with half of your power, and you shall only gain the rest of it when you learn to control that tongue of yours, and when you straighten up. One last thing, you little shit, if you die before you complete your mission, I'm sending you to the eternal fields of punishment, or even better, I'm going to consume your soul like how my brother, Shinigami of the Elemental Nations, does to those who displease him. Now be gone from my sight you pile of lard.** " Death said, pissed off at the insolence of the Mortal. Whilst talking to him, as if speaking to a vermin.

'I'm not done with you, you fucking-' Unfortunately death was not having any of it, as Percival started disappearing, and to add onto the insult, his ability to even think was paused. An angry wizard, is an angry person.

-July 31st 1980-

The scene shifts, this time to a maternity ward. Where a heavily panting red head is going through labour. Her emerald green eyes barely open, as she moaned in pain, clutching the hand of a raven haired male, with hazel eyes. "Keep strong Lily!" The man said, his voice calm and smooth. His voice was barely registered, as she continued to push.

"He's coming out! One final push!" A woman, medi-witch, yelled out to Lily. Lily grunted in pain, as she tried for the final push. And finally, a cry pierced through the room, as a baby was born. "He's here!" She tapped her wand on the newborns umbilical cord, and watched it completely disappear, leaving a navel. She tapped her wand on the baby this time, and he was instantly cleaned. Wrapping the child in the blanket, she handed him to the couple.

"He's adorable James!" The mother said, tears streaming down her eyes. Both her, and her husband equally crying.

"Yes, yes he is." James said, holding onto his wife, and with a finger, gently sliding it down the baby's cheek.

"Welcome little guy, my little Harry James Potter." She said, smiling at her baby.

**The Prelude Before Everything Begins**

**3rd Person Omniscient POV**

'Oh god.' Was Percival's first coherent thought. The second? 'Why is it so tight in here?' Obviously, at this point in time, unlike both you and I, Percival still hasn't realized he's currently in the womb of one Lily Potter. Hah. The poor sucker. This kids, is why you don't mess with death.

And this, is how Percival Augustus Brian Dumbledore was once again born in the Mortal World. This time, as an Avatar of Death, this time, with a clear mission.

* * *

**OMAKE**

**Rewind the Clock - 2 1/2 minutes ago...**

**△ The Cloak - - - - - - - O The Stone of Resurrection - - - - - - - - I The Elder Wand - - - - - - - - - - Together they make, the Deathly Hallows! - - - - -**

**D** E **A** T **H** W **A** I **T** S **F** O **R** N **O** O **N** E

'Oh god, why is it so tight in here?' Percival struggled to open his eyes, a task that he normally had no difficulty in performing. Darkness. Complete, utter darkness.

A few minutes after gaining consciousness, the tight space around Percival started to contract, the limited space he was in getting smaller by the second, and that's when he felt it, his body slowly, but surely starting to move downwards.

Realization struck Percival like the freight train his uncle Morpheus once threw him in front of ( _to test whether or not he had magic_ ). Obviously, his uncle Morpheus ' **spent** ' the next 10 years in the minimal security ward of Azkaban for extreme child endangerment ( _unfortunately for the guards, his uncle Morpheus was smart, strong, and quick witted. He successfully transfigured a pebble into a life like copy of himself, as such, he escaped within the first 50 seconds of being captured_ ), and Percival spent the next 10 days in St. Mungo's being treated for A LOT of crushed bones, and damaged organs. The only thing his magic managed to protect was his head, heart, and his privates. The only good thing that came out of it was that his Uncle Morpheus who was obviously still locked in Azkaban, bought him his wand, school books, the new broom 'Glider', and a fist full of chocolate maggots! Anyways,

'Am I... going to be fucking born? Shit. With my memory, I doubt I'll ever look at whichever child is currently pushing me out of her body the same way ever again. On the other side, I finally get to experience how it feels to exit out of a relatively small space. And the possibility that if Kendra ever finds out about this, she's never going to let me live this down.' He quietly pondered to himself as the space got tighter by the second. That's when he felt it, his feet. It had to be his fucking feet. 'I'm a breech baby.' Fuck. He felt sorry for the girl. He felt sorry for himself.

Percival wondered if this was fates' idea of a joke. Whenever he partook in a muggle fight. he had a tendency to go feet first into the brawl, only opting to throw the punch (or the occasional head-butt) a while after the fight started. He could feel magic surrounding his feet, and suddenly the rest of his body. 'A protective layer,' he mused to himself. 'Designed to cause no harm to the fetus who is in an awkward position (naturalization birth), nor the mother delivering it. Wait a second... It. Am I... an it? Am I a guy? AM I A GIRL? WHY CANT I FEEL MY BALLS? WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING DOWN THERE!?' His squirming intensified as time went on, as he became borderline hysterical.

That's when he came out.

That's when he started to cry.

That's when the medic shouted, "He's here!"

Percival heard it. 'He!' He thought to himself. 'She said I'm a he! I'm a boy!'. The crying began to lessen, as he felt himself being clothed and handed to someone else, 'A man,' he thought to himself. He could feel the arms wrap around his delicate body. Percival tried to open his eyes, only for the extreme glare of the light to temporarily blind him, 'Ah fucking hell.'

"He's adorable!" He heard a woman exclaim in happiness.

"Yes, he is." This time he heard directly above him, also in happiness.

"Welcome little guy, my little Harry James Potter."

'Wait, what? Did she just call me, Percival Dumbledore, Harry? What kind of wizard name is Harry? How the hell will I strike fear into the hearts of others?' He questioned himself, in utter disbelief. ''Fear me puny wizards, for I am the great Harry!' Do they know how stupid it sounds? Couldn't they give me a respectable name? Like Hadrian for example? Better yet, Percival?' Percival tried to maneuver his tiny hands out of the blanket, if only to give these foolish children a piece of his mind.

"Look Lily!" The man exclaimed.

The woman, now named Lily curiously replied back to her partner, "What James?"

"He's trying to get out! Hah! That's my little fawn, don't let anything confine you to a small space!"

Percival paused. 'Did this tosser just liken me to an animal?' His squirming intensified as he tried to escape his prison. 'Curse the person who wrapped this! Once I get my arms back, I'll strangle you to death!'

"Here little fawn, let me get you out of that nasty blanket." James said, as he cooed to his old-newborn child.

'Freedom!' Percival thought to himself. Using his superior cognitive skills, he maneuvered his arm slightly upwards. Then he carefully tried to unclench his middle finger. When that worked, he raised it slightly upwards to the source of the female voice. 'Take that! That's for giving me the name Harry!'

"Lily..." James started. "Is he... Is he telling you off?" Percival thought to himself that James was an alright guy in his books. He obviously could read the situation.

"Don't be silly James, he obviously wants to come to his mother." She said in an exasperated manner.

'No girl, I do not want to come to you!'

"If you say so Lils." And he handed baby Percival over to his new mother.

.

.

.

And this, is how Percival Augustus Brian Dumbledore was once again born in the Mortal World. This time, as an Avatar of Death, this time, with a clear mission.

.

.

.

And as a newborn named Harry Potter!


End file.
